


a place to come back to

by wrennette



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Blanket Permission, F/F, do not copy to another site
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-05
Updated: 2019-12-05
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:48:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21677752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wrennette/pseuds/wrennette
Summary: Cara might have left the village, but she didn't leave Sorgan.
Relationships: Cara Dune/Omera (The Mandalorian TV)
Comments: 16
Kudos: 80





	a place to come back to

**Author's Note:**

> All I’m saying is it wasn’t our Main Mando who designated Omera “that beautiful young widow”.

Cara can’t say she’s surprised, when Winta scuttles into the public house a few weeks after the Mandalorian left. She isn’t even surprised when the girl tells her that the bandits are back. A bit more cautious, not as heavily armed, but back nonetheless. 

There’s no money in it this time, the settlements credits from the last harvest are all already in Cara’s pocket. Cara follows Winta back to the settlement all the same. This time, Omera speaks for them. It seems she’s officially become the headwoman of the village since Cara left. The responsibility suits her well. 

Cara looks around appraisingly. The barricades are still mostly up, a little the worse for the wear. With a little work, and maintenance, they could become a permanent boundary wall. They’ll need a gate. And scaffolding so defenders can stand behind the walls and fire over. Still. It should work. With a nod, Cara turns back to Omera.

“Alright,” Cara says. “This is what we’re going to do.” 

Everyone pitches in. They push the barricades out around the past krill ponds, sinking the poles deep and weaving strong vines between them. Two rows of poles are set, one inside the other, with mud and clay and stones poured between. It takes them weeks, half the village working on their defenses, and the others, the children and elders mostly, doing the farming so that they don’t all go hungry. 

Cara goes into the woods most evenings, hunting for meat and scouting around the perimeter. After she’s eaten at Omera’s table, she lays down in Omera’s barn. She falls asleep each night thinking about Omera’s slender, work worn hands, and the steady way they cradle the barrel of a long gun. 

Each morning Cara is up with the sun. Even so, usually Omera and some of the farmers are already bustling about, stoking their fires and cooking the first meal of the day, tending to their morning chores. It isn’t exactly peaceful - the recent hostilities still have tensions running high. But it’s quiet, and the anticipation of a fight - well, Cara’s always liked that. There’s a reason she did so well as a shocktrooper. 

When dusk falls, the itch for action burns under Cara’s skin, and she walks the perimeter, listening to the insects and night birds. After the first few nights, some of the townsfolk take to following her, setting up a sort of rudimentary patrol. She nods at them as they cross paths in the shadows, a little pleased at their initiative. 

In addition to building up the barricade into a fortified wall, they also pull the wreck of the AT-ST out of the deepened pond. They bang out the dents, then set it into the wall just next to the main gate, and Cara goes to work seeing if she can get the cannon operational again. 

Cara doesn’t quite get the cannon working before the birds rise calling from the trees. Blasterfire zips toward the village, and the children and elders scrabble for cover. Cara can’t quite stop herself from grinning, and she vaults up the ladder to the scaffolding so she can lock her sights on the first bandit to break out of the treeline. She aims, and fires, and in a puff of smoke, the bandit falls dead in the tall grass. 

Adrenaline pulses through Cara as she lays down fire. She shoots efficiently, not wasting precious charges, making each shot count. The farmers, outfitted with guns taken from the last bandits to attack, follow suit. She’s a little proud of how much they’ve improved since she and the Mando first came to town. 

The bandits, facing a sturdy wall and a hail of blasterfire, soon retreat. Cara’s blood is still singing in her veins, and she swings down to follow them into the forest. She doesn’t have the fancy gadgets the Mandalorian did, but the bandits aren’t hard to track. A few of the more hot blooded farmers fall into her footsteps as she courses after them, and behind her, Cara can hear the other villagers beginning to strip the bodies. It’s grim work, but profitable, and the villagers are pragmatic about it. 

When Cara and her little band of hunters return, the village is well into a celebration. The spotchka’s been broken into, and a big bonfire is burning strong in the middle of the settlement. The children laugh and dance away their lingering nerves, and the defenders play up their heroics. Cara watches a little wistfully from the periphery, missing her old comrades a bit. Her gaze lingers on the firelight gleaming in Omera’s long dark hair. 

“Thank you,” Omera says that night, as they walk together back to her house. Winta sleeps peacefully in Cara’s arms, her little head tucked against Cara’s broad shoulder. 

“I feel a little responsible for your village being targeted,” Cara admits, and Omera glances at her again, then shakes her head. 

“No, they had set their sights on us before you came here,” Omera says, her look and tone sincere. “Please believe we are grateful to you. The Mandalorian too, but you didn’t have to come back. We know you could easily have left us to our troubles.”

“Not easily,” Cara says firmly, holding Omera’s gaze. “Leaving here - even if it was only to town - it was harder than I thought it would be.” 

“You can stay, you know,” Omera said carefully, and her thin hand gently covered Cara’s on Winta’s shoulder. “You’ve more than earned a place here.” For a long moment, they stand there in the moonlight, gazing into one another’s eyes over Winta’s sleeping form. 

“It’s been a long time, since I’ve stayed in one place,” Cara warned. “I’m not sure I’m cut out for settling down.”

“Well, a place to come back to?” Omera suggested, her fingers tightening just slightly over Cara’s. Cara couldn’t help her smile at that. 

“It would be nice,” Cara said huskily, “having a nice place like this to come back to.” She swallowed thickly, then tilted her head and leaned in. Omera’s mouth was sweet and smokey, and a thrill sharper than any anticipation of fighting lanced through Cara’s belly. Soft lips moved against hers, and Omera kissed Cara back, her free hand rising to stroke at Cara’s shorn hair. 

“Why don’t you come inside,” Omera offered, and even by the light of the moons, Cara could see the blush that pinked her cheeks. 

“I’d like that too,” Cara said, and followed Omera over the threshold.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm @wrennette on dreamwidth, pillowfort and tumblr, feel free to come say hi

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[podfic] a place to come back to](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22913503) by [Gondolinpod (Gondolin)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gondolin/pseuds/Gondolinpod)




End file.
